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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27020704">My Stomach Turns with Your Frown</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myzic/pseuds/Myzic'>Myzic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Penumbra Podcast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Description of Domestic Violence, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I wrapped this baby in fluff, Manipulation, Not Beta Read, Other, Past Domestic Violence, There is COMFORT for Juno after, Verbal Abuse, Whump, Whumptober 2020, branded, cause it was too brutal otherwise, we die like hyperion mayors</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:22:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,282</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27020704</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myzic/pseuds/Myzic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Juno snapped back, confused and at a loss. “I said it already, didn’t I? I couldn’t make it back sooner. Do you want a written apology or what?” What did they want from him? More apologies? He’d already given one, and it hadn’t worked, so all he had left was this seething pile of leftover anger and vitriol. </p>
<p>“Don’t fucking interrupt me,” Diamond's voice got louder towards the end of their sentence and Juno had to make sure his hands were still clenched so they wouldn’t shake. “You’re the one who made the goddammn mistake, and now you’re trying to put it on me, make me feel guilty like I’m the one at fault—”</p>
<p>At this point, Juno would usually back off, steer clear, wind down, or at least start to rapidly put distance between him and his partner, but not today.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Diamond/Juno Steel, Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956226</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>227</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>My Stomach Turns with Your Frown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Trigger Warnings include: domestic abuse, violence, verbal abuse, and reference to sexual favours</p>
<p>Seriously, guys, this one's a little harsh, and do not read if you think these triggers apply to you. Look after yourselves.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He put a hand to an array of arcing lightning scars, branching like gnarled tree roots on Nureyev’s chest which lay horizontal on the bed with him. “What about these ones?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Miasma,” the answer he got was casual, making light of the many intricate weavings that wrapped around his chest and ribs. Nureyev couldn’t get away with it, the dismissive tone, not with Juno. He still remembered the screams.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh.” Juno should already have known that but he’d only ever seen the wounds fresh, large red welts raised on his skin in the dim lighting of the tomb, so unlike the slivered paths that lay patterned on his skin now. He saw them the night after they escaped too, but they had been a little busy then. “You didn’t get these ones covered up, huh. Why not?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, at first I suppose it was because I didn’t consider it, and then after…” he hesitated, and Juno wanted to ask after it, his pause, his reluctance but he held off. If Peter wanted to tell him, he would listen with bated breath, and if he didn’t… Juno would learn to live with the silences that had grown between them in the past year. “After, I’ve had trouble acquiring the means to remove them. The damage was extensive and the kind of marks left from our time in the tomb were difficult to remove.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Juno traced them with his hand, softly, wishing that he could erase the pain with just his touch. “I’m sorry.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Whatever for, dear detective? If I remember correctly, I wasn’t the only one who escaped with a few scars to show for it,” and he leaned forward, the sound of shifting fabric, ruffling with him as Peter pressed a kiss, light as a feather over Juno’s eye and the mass of scar on his eyelid.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Juno closed his other eye as he did, basking momentarily in the feeling of Nureyev’s lips, adoring and plush. “If it makes it any better, I think they suit you, Nureyev.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How so?” and his voice was curious instead of offended like he wanted to know what Juno actually thought about the remnants of the torture he’d bared.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Juno traced them once more, grinning at the slight dips and vibrations when he got to Peter’s stomach, the muffled giggles at the ticklish sensation. “They’re gorgeous, elegant, intricate,” he stopped tickling Nureyev and grabbed his hand, warm under the sheets with his own, “<em>beautiful</em>. Like you.” His face warmed under Juno’s touch and he inwardly melted at being able to make Peter feel the way he looked right now. Loved. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His thumb brushed against Juno’s bottom lip, skimming the delicate skin before stopping. “What about this one on you?” he asked. Juno froze a little before forcing himself to lower his shoulders, relax his tense stomach.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I, uh, I got it from an old partner,” Juno felt Nureyev go stiff against him, still in the way he did when he was thinking about murder. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After the moment’s pause, he continued tracing Juno’s lip, moving his hand from his mouth to his jawline, and asked, casual as anything, “And what was this partner’s name?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Juno thought for a moment, contemplating how much Nureyev would insist on this information and whether or not he would find it on his own anyway. Not that it mattered, they were practicing openness here, and Juno planned on telling him anyway. “It’s—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“—Diamond. Sorry, I’m back late.” Juno shut the door behind him as he entered their apartment, tiny on his and Diamond’s wages, but home to the two of them anyway. “I know you asked me to get home on time today, but the bust went up in flames and I couldn’t,” their back was to him as he spoke, washing dirty dishes from a supper they’d had to make and eat without him, shoulders set in a straight line of irritation. “Just leave,” Juno finished weakly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, no I get it,” The dishes clanged noisily in the sink, knocking against each other in the water harshly, “it’s always the same with you, Juno. It’s not like I don’t know where your priorities lie.” Diamond threw the washcloth into the empty second sink where it splat against the solid porcelain with a wet slap. Juno inhaled harshly. That was fair. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’d been spending more time at the department than usual, trying to wrap up the ends on a bust in Old Town. Arms dealing. It was ugly, and the area had gotten tense recently, a shootout or two that had ended with people caught in critical conditions, but no casualties. Yet. Juno thought of blank eyes and scorched holes that had yet to stop smoking, broken bodies, and cheeks still round with puberty and he clenched his fists.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Look, can we not do this today? I’m sorry, Diamond, I’m so goddamn—” Juno stifled his words, turning abruptly silent. <em> Tired</em>, he didn’t say. The bust had blown up in their faces; someone had snitched like they had the last time a big operation had been in the works. And the time before that. “I’m a fuckup, I know, but I can make it up to you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They looked less calm at his words if anything, lip turned up in the slightest of sneers. “That’s what tonight was supposed to be for. I got home early today, made us this nice meal,” Juno walked into the kitchen against his better judgement, leaning on the counter, “because I thought maybe, tonight we could have a good time.” Their hair is silken and silver against their neck and throat, gleaming as bright as their eyes, sharp and cutting like a knife.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Juno glanced towards their table, a kitchen island, not good for guests or facing each other when eating, but small enough to be conservative with the small amount of space in their apartment. It had a small candle on it, wick long since burned low and black from the flame.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em> Oh </em>,” he said softly, unsure of where to begin with that. Juno didn’t really want to, not tonight, not even if he’d gotten home on time. But if it made Diamond happy… “We can still do that,” he said, swallowing down the dread in his stomach. If they did, it would be a rough night with them worked up like this, “how about we skip the foreplay and just…” Juno slipped an arm around Diamond’s neck leaning in when all he wanted to do was back away, “let you fuck me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck, Juno. No, not tonight,” they pinched the bridge of their nose, short fingernails rough, and Juno withdrew hastily. “Are you kidding me? You don’t make enough time for us, you don’t—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Juno snapped back, confused and at a loss. “I said it already, didn’t I? I couldn’t make it back sooner. Do you want a written apology or what?” What did they want from him? More apologies? He’d already given one, and it hadn’t worked, so all he had left was this seething pile of leftover anger and vitriol. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t fucking interrupt me,” their voice got louder towards the end of their sentence and Juno had to make sure his hands were still clenched so they wouldn’t shake. “You’re the one who made the goddamn mistake, and now you’re trying to put it on me, make me feel guilty like <em> I’m </em> the one at fault—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At this point, Juno would usually back off, steer clear, wind down, or at least start to rapidly put distance between him and his partner, but not today. Diamond was right, anyway. He had fucked up again, the exact same way he had so many times before, promised something he couldn’t follow up on, a disappointment to his last, that was Juno Steel. It was a wonder they were still together and Juno clung to the fact. Diamond had put up with his shit time and time again, no matter how bad it got. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the meantime, there was an itch lying somewhere deep in his gut, something that spat acid and growled at the world, and Juno could feel himself give into it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The hell do you know?” he snarled, pushing himself into Diamond’s face, “I get it! I get it, okay? I screw everything the hell up, but maybe, just this once, I’m trying to make things <em> better— </em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was cut off by a lack of air in his lungs and a battering ram to the stomach. Juno made a punched-out noise he couldn’t help at the feeling of the knee in his stomach, the bone, like hard iron in his gut. Juno crumpled to his knees, hunching over his stomach, arms wrapped around his midsection.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I told you not to <em> fucking </em> interrupt me!” Diamond shouted, and Juno could see their fine features screwed up in rage. He pushed himself up with the counter, one arm still around his stomach, and slumped against it. “You never get anything right, not even the simplest of instructions!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry,” Juno said. He’d asked for that, wound Diamond up until they couldn’t help it, egged them on with his own words. Juno had practically begged for that one, had seen it coming, and pushed his partner over the edge anyway. Was it any wonder he got what was coming to him? Any wonder he made Diamond so angry, when he knew what he was doing, knew, and still aggravated him on purpose, still picked fights?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Diamond was the one getting in his space now, their grey eyes glinting like hard rocks, “‘Sorry’ only gets you so far, Juno. At some point, it’s not enough.” Juno thought, <em>I’m not enough</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll do better.” he said, “Promise. I promise.” And he meant it, Juno was going to actually improve this time, he wouldn’t make the same mistakes again, and if he could just convince Diamond of the same thing, it would be okay.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The counter was sharp against his back, and he focused on that, on the edge of it, digging slightly into his hips. “C’mon, I’ve heard it all before. You’re sorry, you’ll be better, and look where we are,” Diamond raised their hands and gestured around them with wide arms that Juno tried to shrink back from without being too obvious, “same shit as always. You don’t change. You never do, you just keep saying ‘sorry’ and it never. gets. better.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They leaned in, planting their palms on the top of Juno’s hands on the counter behind him and he worked hard to not pull them away, to not feel like he was trapped. Pinned in place like a fly. “It’ll be different this time, I really am—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was looking at the right side of the apartment, dazed, staring at the dingy, torn couch set up in front of the TV. Then, he felt the sharp spread of burning across his cheek and down his chin. There was the taste of iron, seeping into his mouth and Juno could feel the tear in his lip from Diamond’s ring raking across his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t say you’re ‘sorry’ again. God, we just went over this.” They turned his head so that he was looking them straight in the eye, hands cold, cupping his chin, “No wonder no one loves you but me.” Diamond said, scathing and a little resentful with their next words, “You’re mine.” They said it like they hated their own words, had found something sour and not to their liking, and decided to drop it like molten glass in the summer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They pushed themselves away from him in one swift movement and began to stalk away in anger, long legs moving seamlessly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His steps were quiet as he walked to the bathroom, having waited nervously in the living room until it was at least a little dark out. Diamond would be in their bedroom, hopefully sleeping, they had an early shift the next day. It didn’t matter what they were doing in the bedroom, Juno wouldn’t be going in there for the rest of the night. It would be good for the both of them if he took the couch tonight, spent some time letting each other cool off before the next day. Everything would fine tomorrow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The bathroom lights were harsh and cast an unflatteringly cold light on his face. Juno lifted his shirt, surveying his stomach. It was fine. He’d be wearing a shirt to work the next day, so no one would have to see the bruise. His face on the other hand…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>For a second he considered skipping the ice. Diamond would be kinder in the morning, more forgiving of Juno’s shortcomings if he did. All soft hands and explanations. They would talk about how Juno just made them upset sometimes, and that Diamond didn’t mean it, but if he made an honest effort to actually avoid his mistakes this time, then things wouldn’t be like this. He knew their hands would be softer, words more loving if he didn’t ice his face, left it plain and bared for the world to see.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe that meant he deserved it more than he already did. The fact that he used Diamond’s guilt against them, manipulated them into tender hugs and a vulnerable face when Juno deserved everything he got. Despite Juno’s own private turmoil about it, he already knew he would use each bruise against them whenever he got the chance. Anything to feel— Well, they were always kinder (guiltier) when Juno was a mass of black and blue the next day.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And that was just the problem. Tomorrow, Juno had to walk into the HCPD with his bruised skin. No one would ask, of course, they would just assume. He burned with it, the knowledge of what they saw when they looked at him, knowing they were right as they did. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The only one who would ask was Rita, and he couldn’t worry her. He’d had enough of her probing questions anyway, so if he iced it tonight it was just another dodged bullet. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But for now, Juno spat into the white porcelain bowl, watching drops of crimson syrup roll down the drain and leave tear trails of red behind. He looked into the mirror and surveyed the bruise properly once the taste of iron wasn’t so prominent in his mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It started at the tip of his cheekbone and reached to the corner of his lip in an ugly purple flush that grabbed at his cheek like an infection. His lip had a deep split in it, a tiny crevice that had formed an angry reddish-black scab like a natural snake bite. The inside of his lips was still tinged with a mix of blood and saliva that sat heavy in his mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Juno touched the arcing scab on his lip, which felt inflamed, hot to the touch. His eyes were itchy and then there were warm tears sliding down his face, cold by the time they dripped off his chin. His inhale became choked and he clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle the noise of it. Juno had never been happy to grow up with Sarah for a mother, but just this once he was grateful for being forced to learn how to muffle his hiccups, which had always bubbled up uncontrollably as a child, but now laid docile in the hollow of his throat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The scab under his hand felt even hotter with his hand pressed to it. The last words Diamond said to him that night rang unbidden on the clean tiles of their bathroom. <em> You’re mine</em>. Juno’s throat gulped and he shoved away his needless panic at the words. He <em>was </em> Diamond’s. They were each other’s, so there was no reason to be feeling like this. Tonight hadn’t been great, sure, but their relationship had always been different. The way they loved each other was just—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>—complicated. Between us, that is.” Juno admitted, “or at least that’s what I thought at the time.” Nureyev had slowly gotten closer and closer during his retelling until his arms were holding Juno tight against his chest, and he had to murmur the words. He took a few shaky breaths, and carefully wrapped his arms around Peter in return.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That had been… hard. He’d never had to state the facts so openly like that, but now that he had, Juno realized it had been a little easier with Peter there, a warm and steady presence. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m— I’m so sorry, Juno,” Nureyev’s arms went stiff for just a second, then began to recede from their comfortable places on his back, “do you want me to be touching you right now?” In response, Juno pressed him to his chest harder, arms squeezing tighter until he felt the tentative return of long arms slot perfectly around him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re good,” he confirmed, pushing his cheek to Nureyev’s chest and sighing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright,” Nureyev said gently. He loosened an arm from Juno’s side again and his palm was hopelessly soft cradling his cheek. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you have something else you want to fess up to? It doesn’t have to be uh, you don’t have to spill your guts like me,” he said. That had been a lot, and he didn’t want Nureyev to feel indebted to share his own tales of emotional duress. If he didn’t want to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a vibration in the chest against his own and a considering hum. He tilted his head down at Juno, who looked up, befuddled. Peter slowly raised a hand to his bottom lip and pulled it down for him to see. There was a small hill of scars, very old and long since healed, but Juno couldn’t help push his face closer. The hell? You think he would’ve felt those. He’d certainly been in Nureyev’s mouth enough to know it inside and out. Woah, that sounded— uh. Well, that’s what skulls were for. To stop him from spilling his thoughts everywhere for people to find.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“When I first had my procedure for these,” his tongue darted out to run over his sharpened incisors and Juno followed it, enraptured, “it took me a while to get used to the feel of them. Have you ever accidentally bit the inside of your mouth when you eat?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He stifled the grin threatening to split his face, “Yeah?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let’s just say it took me a while to break myself of the habit.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now Juno actually did snort, “And you decided not to get <em> these </em>ones covered up. Why? Didn’t they hurt?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, absolutely. I’m afraid I looked a little bit like a vampire for some time, but I was too embarrassed to visit anyone who could cover my slip-ups.” Juno imagined Peter, twenty-something with his exciting new fangs, running around with an aching, split-mouth, not talking because of the blood, and too stubborn to go looking for help.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That sounds…” he trailed off, caught between an urge to laugh and a pang of pity for the younger version of Nureyev, “traumatizing.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peter eyes him smugly. “I can’t say I regret it. Not when I know how much you like them.” He kissed Juno who returned it hungrily, and he could feel the sharp teeth nipping like needles over his lower lip in a flash. “And I do love you, Juno. You and all your scars,” his breath ghosted over the shell of Juno’s ear and he exhaled. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I love you too,” Juno said, “and Nureyev?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, Juno?”</p>
<p><br/>“Thanks.” <em> Thanks for listening</em>, he didn’t say, <em> thanks for being here</em>, <em> thanks for loving me</em>. Juno didn’t say those things out loud but Peter smiled beautifully, warmly, lovingly, and he thought he heard them anyway.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HOO boy,</p>
<p>I had to wrap this one in fluff on both sides or it would have been too brutal.</p>
<p>Come find me @themagicmistress on Tumblr</p></blockquote></div></div>
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